Edwards, as did Johnson, will benefit from shortfalls

HOMESTEAD, Fla. -- They met for the first time in 2002, when Carl Edwards was a rookie on the Craftsman Truck Series, Jimmie Johnson was a rookie on the circuit now known as Sprint Cup, and two drivers who would one day battle for championships found themselves in a house full of people they didn't know. Somehow they had both been invited to the traditional season-opening party at the Daytona Beach home of Lesa France Kennedy, granddaughter of the sport's late founder. They wound up sitting on the steps, feeling like awkward outsiders, with no one to talk to but one another.

From that initial meeting arose a mutual respect. Edwards admired Johnson's easy-going attitude, not to mention the fact that he had come out of nowhere to snag the Daytona 500 pole. Johnson liked that Edwards would race anything, anytime. Both were eager, earnest drivers loaded with potential, and backed by the sport's top organizations. Even then, it wouldn't have been impossible to envision them staring one another down across the garage area, with NASCAR's biggest prize to be decided between them.

They're more alike than you might think. Johnson, who needs a finish of 36th or better in Sunday's finale at Homestead-Miami Speedway to secure a record-tying third Cup Series championship, once pestered fellow American Speed Association driver Gary St. Amant over the definitions of tight, loose, stagger and wedge. Edwards, 141 points behind Johnson, once pestered Missouri truck owner Mike Mittler again and again to give him a chance behind the wheel. Both built their careers on perseverance -- Johnson by crafting business proposals and contact networks, Edwards by handing out business cards and buying newspaper ads. And should Edwards' long-shot bid at the title fall short, he needs only to look at the driver holding the sterling silver trophy to find solace.

Because Jimmie Johnson wasn't always this unstoppable force, this driver who leaves his challengers beaten and awestruck as he charges toward Cale Yarborough's 30-year-old record for consecutive championships. He was once the kid who couldn't win it all, who came close time after time only to watch someone else celebrate in the end. It's easy to forget that this run of greatness was preceded by a run of heartache, a runner-up finish by 90 points to Matt Kenseth in 2003 followed by a runner-up finish to Kurt Busch by eight points in 2004. The next year he finished fifth, butted heads with his crew chief, Chad Knaus, and what would become the best team of their generation was nearly split up.

Things were so testy that Rick Hendrick called Johnson and Knaus into his office and offered them cookies and milk -- if they were going to act like children, the car owner surmised, he was going to treat them as such.

"I can remember sitting down with Harry Hyde and Geoff Bodine and different situations over the years, and most of the time when it gets to a point of conflict, you patch it up but it always erupts again," Hendrick recalled this weekend. "But in this meeting, these guys really put their heart on the table and they talked specifically about what they didn't like. Instead of holding it in they were able to become closer friends and still respect each other's professional position in the team. I'm real proud of them, because I would have bet money that we couldn't fix it."

The tremendous success enjoyed by the No. 48 team in the past three seasons glosses over the reminders that this was once a fractured outfit struggling to find its way, an experience paying dividends today. "I think you learn about your fight, and who you are and what you want to accomplish," Johnson said. "You just learn a lot about yourself and the fight and character that you have and that your team has. You know, I personally learn more when I make mistakes than I ever have when things go well. It doesn't matter if it's personal life or professional life. When you make mistakes and things slip through your fingers, that's when I learn the most."

Hendrick has seen the evolution up close. Johnson was once too quiet of a driver, Knaus once too domineering of a crew chief. The fire-and-ice quality that makes them so complementary was once almost too combustible for them to work together. It's no coincidence that they only began winning championships together after they were nearly broken up.

"The longer you've got good people working together, the better they become," said Hendrick, on the brink of his eighth championship in NASCAR's premier division. "They just keep refining what they do every year. So I think the chemistry has just been better, but nothing beats experience. Being there fighting for a championship and losing one will motivate you when you lose one close. All you can do is put yourself in that position and they've done a good job of doing that."

For Edwards, such words certainly bring hope. While he and crew chief Bob Osborne haven't reached the near-crisis stage that Johnson and Knaus did, Edwards has certainly endured his share of upheaval -- from having Osborne moved to help strengthen a teammate, to penalties and contract renegotiations, to a couple of very public spats with other drivers. But the strongest parallels between Johnson and Edwards have been on the racetrack, where the Roush Fenway driver is on the verge of continuing a spate of near misses quite comparable to what his Hendrick Motorsports counterpart endured only a few years ago.

Johnson, four years older than Edwards, finished second in the final standings in his third and fourth full-time seasons on NASCAR's top series. Edwards finished tied for second in points (Greg Biffle technically took the spot on a race-win tiebreaker) in his first full-time season in 2005, and will almost certainly place second again Sunday at Homestead. Any concerns over the strength of the No. 48 car after its poor qualifying effort were allayed on Saturday, when the blue and silver Chevrolet was a rocket in practice (watch video). While Johnson may be the superstitious sort -- he'll set his microwave for 48 seconds, for example, instead of a full minute -- and Knaus is surely fretting over the resilience of every $2 part, the numbers are just too overwhelming.

This is simply Johnson's time. Edwards' will come. Johnson spent years slamming against that invisible wall separating him from a championship, a fact now lost in so much confetti and sprayed champagne, only to smash through it in his fifth full-time season. Next year will be Edwards' fifth as a full-time Cup driver. His shortcomings will only make him more dangerous, a fact he's already beginning to realize.

"Whether or not we win it, either way, I have learned a couple of things about where to put the effort, where to be cautious, not to underestimate your opponents," Edwards said. "All of these things I kind of already knew, but this kind of galvanizes those things. It makes me realize, 'hey, we have to really fine-tune the way we compete.' So, I have learned some things I think will help, regardless of what happens. I can't wait for next season and the season after that. I think we've got a team now that can compete at a very high level."

And eventually, he'll have his moment, just as Johnson is enjoying his now.

The opinions expressed are solely of the writer.

Beyond Pit Road
• Video: Johnson, Hendrick discuss what makes 48 team tick